When a Squirrel Loves a Dh'oine
by stuphanie
Summary: Continued from When a Squirrel Meets a Dh'oine but can be read alone. Iorveth visits the human he found in his forest all that time ago, and is faced with conflicting decisions and feelings. M for smut and language.
1. Chapter 1

_A / N - okay this is kind of carrying on from 'When a Squirrel Meets a Dh'oine' although could be read alone - but the first story may explain a bit more and add more depth. i got a little bit carried away and i'm undecided whether i want to carry this on and see where it leads... feedback would be grateful! enjoy! _

_p.s. i have used words from the Elder Tongue that can be easily and quickly translated through Google/ The Witcher wiki_

_disclaimer: Iorveth is not my character and i own no rights to the Witcher 2. the female character however is my own creation. this was written for entertainment purposes, not profit._

**Chapter One**

Iorveth's visits had become more frequent. After their experience in the forest, it had been several weeks until the elf had chanced a visit to Lorella's room above the inn at first. She had arrived back from her excursion relatively unscathed yet smug, and didn't even wince when Dyson yelled himself hoarse at her. This seemed to shock the innkeeper the most; he was used to making people afraid and cower in a corner. He had watched the young woman not even bat an eyelid after this outburst. As a result, he had grown more respect for her, so decided to let her keep her job, lowered her hours and even offered a higher rate of pay and better room. Immensely confused by this, Lorella had to force herself to bite her tongue when she wanted to know why. Instead, she accepted this gracefully and made her way to her new room at the inn, of which was vastly roomier and had a comfy looking bed that could easily fit three people. She had lain between the crisp sheets that night, recounting the event with the infamous elf and touched herself over the thought of him.

She thought of Iorveth more and more over the next few days, wondering why she hadn't seen hid nor hair, thinking back to his frequent visits over the two weeks. After a fortnight of this pathetic pining, she pushed all thoughts of the handsome elf out her mind – yet remained unsated. Despite their casual, animalistic sexual escapades, she could help but have formed feelings for him. Of course, it was ridiculous – a human falling for the Scoia'tael leader!

One late evening, however, she found herself in the whorehouse, requesting an appointment with Margot. Lorella waited around for half an hour until the exotic-looking woman finally appeared, throwing her arms out wide.

"Darling," she purred, kissing Lorella on each cheek. "And what do I owe this pleasure?"

Lorella cleared her throat awkwardly and lowered her voice. "It's about the… proposition you made me all that time ago, if the invitation remains open."

Margot positively beamed and swooped to kiss her again. "But of course. Have you finally left the job that worthless fool Dyson gave you?"

"Ah, no, I'm still there, I just don't work as much," Lorella explained. A flush crept up onto her cheeks as she saw several women walking around in tight, ill-fitting corsets.

"Ah, but you may leave him for this place soon enough," said Margot, grabbing Lorella's upper arm and steering her upstairs. "I can give you a trial run first, see how you cope with all of this, then we'll go from there. I have a client I would like you to meet."

Lorella mumbled an unintelligible reply and instead marched up the stairs where Margot led her. The whore opened a door that led to a large room, and indicated a man sat on one of the chairs by the window. He had his head bowed, so his face remain unseen, even as the two women entered. Another man was present, too: he was dark and willowy, with a small triangular shaped goatee. His eyes lit up as he turned his attention to the women.

"Aha! And what beautiful young thing is this?" he asked, sweeping his hat from his head and bowing low. He cupped Lorella's hand in his and kissed it several times.

"Away with you, Dandelion," said Margot impatiently, flapping her free hand at him. "Lorella, this is Geralt of Rivia."

The man by the window raised his head when he heard his name. He had white blond hair that hovered just below his shoulders and piercing yellow eyes that raked Lorella's physique as she approached him. He stood and bowed, keeping his eyes on her delicate face. Lorella found him strangely attractive – maybe it was the taught physique or the way he looked at her, impassive yet gentle. Her first assumption was that he had been with a lot of women.

"Geralt is a witcher, and passing through Flotsam," Margot explained, seemingly unaware that the man couldn't tear his eyes away from this young woman who was so evidently new to the whorehouse. Lorella dragged her gaze away with difficulty, feeling slightly awkward that the witcher barely blinked as he surveyed her.

"A pleasure," he said in a deep baritone. His gaze wandered down her slender neck and lingered on her plump breasts for a moment before he turned to Margot. "It would be unwise for me to linger too long. I am to find Triss, lest you forget."

"Of course," Margot said, waving a hand airily. "I forget about your reasons here and dealings with Scoia'tael."

The word pierced Lorella's heart like a shard of ice. What did the Scoia'tael have to do with this? Was Iorveth involved? What was going on?

Geralt turned to Lorella, and appeared to notice that her demeanour had changed. "I assume this young lady will be servicing me?"

Lorella didn't answer and merely gazed out the window. Something bad was going on – although this witcher didn't seem like a bad person, so why was he associating with the elves? It would be unwise for her to question all of this, lest she look like a spy. Of course she was nothing of the sort; a casual liaison with the Scoia'tael leader in return for her life didn't make her a spy. At least she hoped not…

She was quiet for so long that Margot elbowed her impatiently in the ribs to spur her into talking.

"She will if you require it," said Margot, hiding her irritability well.

"Another time," replied Geralt in his deep, gravelly voice. Lorella caught the look of longing and mischievous glint in his eyes, causing her to blush again.

"Of course." Margot curtseyed, then turned to Lorella. "Perhaps you should return again tomorrow evening, my dear?"

By the suggestive note in her voice, Lorella took this as her cue to leave. Bowing respectfully and muttering a hasty goodbye, she fled the brothel. Night had fallen now; the wind that blew was cold and nothing stirred. As quick as possible, Lorella scuttled back to the inn and fled up the wooden stairs. She was not in the mood for unwanted attention by drunken patrons tonight. She burst into her room and shut the door behind her, hastily sliding the bolts across to keep unwelcome visitors out. Sighing, she turned to her bed – only there was already someone sitting on it.

* * *

She recognised the sharp profile first. Even in the gloom, it was distinguishable. Despite the recognition, Lorella remained by the door, paralysed – by fear?

"Hello, dh'oine," came the deep voice of Iorveth. He didn't move from the bed, though sought out her sweet scent and faced her direction.

"What are you doing here?" she asked breathlessly. She couldn't help but feel afraid that he was here to kill her. That was what he did to most humans, after all. Despite him visiting her a couple of weeks prior, she didn't expect to see him again. He'd got what he wanted, and her debt was 'paid in full', as he had reminded her. _So why was he here?_

"To see you." He stated it baldly, as if it were obvious. Finally he stood up from the edge of the bed and approached her. Lorella's sweet scent assaulted his acute sense of smell. He breathed in deeply and nuzzled her neck. She remained still, taken aback by this display of affection. This wasn't how it usually went. Protocol dictated that Iorveth sneak through her window in the late hours of the night, pinning her down on her bed before ravaging her; her screams and whimpers usually muffled by his hand. After, he would depart, sated, leaving her asleep and feeling alone come morning. This is what had happened over the past weeks; now it had changed, she couldn't help but worry if this was a trap, if he was sick of her now he had got what he wanted and decided to silence her forever.

"Iorveth –" she began, but he held a finger to her lips.

"I tried to stay away from you," he murmured into her ear. "I tried to tell myself that you were just a human, a revolting dh'oine with whom I did not want to be associated with. I despise humans – surely you know that."

She nodded wordlessly, wondering where this was going. Her heart pounding erratically it was almost painful.

"It seems you're an exception to these rules; to all the rules and boundaries I ever set myself."

Then suddenly his mouth was on his, kissing her with an urgency she had never experienced from anyone, silencing her unvoiced curiosity. During their nights together, they had never kissed once – only fucked lustfully. Lorella could tell that the feral desire was still there, lying under what she could only assume was… love? Some sort of fondness? Iorveth was never affectionate towards her, except for now. She wanted to question it, though a gut feeling told her not to ruin the glorious moment.

Momentarily stunned, she did nothing, but then reciprocated the kiss as if she could not get enough of him. He tasted divine, of mint and lavender and tea – her of wine and candies. Slowly he pushed his tongue into her mouth, both of their tongues massaging each other. Lorella moaned into their kiss, and this proved as some sort of fuel for the elf. Hurriedly, without breaking contact, he threw his weapons to the floor and slipped his clothes off, standing fully naked in the moonlight of the room. Deft hands untied her bodice, undid her skirts and allowed her clothes to be thrown to the floor. Iorveth's calloused hands moved up and down the creamy skin of her torso, causing her to erupt in goose pimples. The contrast of soft skin against his roughness was enough to make his crotch stir. He was already fully erect and pushed his impressive length towards Lorella so that it nudged her stomach.

Iorveth picked up the delicate human, supporting her weight by clutching her buttocks. She broke away from their kiss with a sound like a plunger as he laid her gently on the bed. This wasn't right. This wasn't how it usually went. Surely it _was_ a trap? Why had he changed his mind about what he wanted? She eyed his weapons in the corner of the room. Thought if he had planned something, he hadn't made it so apparent – but thus his slyness was evident and in his nature.

Lorella opened her mouth to speak, finally feeling she should voice her concerns – though was quickly silenced once again by the elf inserting his middle finger into her. She was already wet from her prior surprise and arousal and squirmed beneath him. Worry turned to surprise as Iorveth trailed light kisses down her neck to her collar bone, then her stomach and finally inner thigh. Using his tongue, he expertly flicked her swollen clitoris and smirked when she gasped. This was another first… It had been blatantly apparent that Iorveth didn't believe in pleasing a woman this way. Usually he was the one that got this kind of oral attention, not her.

Her back arched as he licked her pussy more vigorously, lapping away at her juices. He inserted another digit and built up a steady rhythm of fingering her. For a brief moment, he wondered why he had been so selfish when they had previously fornicated, then realised why the whole thing started. The dh'oine had roamed his forest, uninvited and unannounced, so bent her to his every will. But now, he felt something else – a satisfaction that ran deep within him as he felt this woman writhe beneath his face, rubbing her sex against his mouth as she urged him to go faster. He enjoyed that he was making her feel so good, but also confused; the affection he felt towards her contrasted greatly with his deep hatred of humans, of all their species. That was why he stayed away. The last time they met, he fled in the early hours of the morning as he always did, though was then torn with the desire to stay, to watch her sleep and smooth her chestnut brown hair back from her face. Her inhuman beauty mesmerised him. He didn't want to care for her, but on the contrary, he found he very much did, and this puzzled him. It was just sex. That was all it had been – he would fuck her raw, come inside her or anywhere else on her body, and leave. Now feelings had wormed their way into the situation and, although mildly disgusted with himself by his change of heart, couldn't help them. This visit was not planned by him, and had found himself deftly making his way through the forest and through the window of her room, sitting in wait. He had almost left when she entered, and it felt as if the world had been put to rights when he saw her.

Iorveth continued to eat at her pussy, inserting a third finger inside her. She moaned louder, and the sound was his weakness. Slowing to a halt, he crouched above her, their noses touching, using his arms as leverage. Lorella saw his mouth was moist from her arousal and she bit her lip subconsciously. It had felt so good. The elf lowered his mouth to hers, kissing her passionately and making her taste the salty tang of her wetness. She tasted delicious and he wanted more.

"Fuck me," she breathed, her bosom heaving. Her hips grinded against his crotch, the elf's length rubbing along her moisture. He closed his eyes, a soft sigh escaping his lips. Opening his eyes a moment later, he looked down to her pussy. Even through the gloom, his acute sight registered the pink wetness. So delicate, and so deserving of a hard pounding, he thought, but he wasn't going to do that tonight.

Not answering her question, Iorveth teased the head of his cock around her tight entrance. Her breathing became more laboured as he pushed it in, inch by inch, until he buried inside her. He flexed his cock and smirked as her eyes rolled back, revealing their whites at this new sensation. A slow rhythm ensued, his slightly curved cock stroking her g-spot as he moved in and out. Lorella's tantalising fingers encased the elf's muscular biceps and her nails dug in as he thrust deeper and faster each time. Unperturbed by this, Iorveth picked up tempo, in return earning himself deep marks and scratches down his arms. He gritted his teeth, enjoying the mild pain in exchange for pleasure, for making this woman feel good.

She bit down on her bottom lip as the elf's pace became more urgent. Suddenly, he grabbed her smooth legs and hoisted them onto his shoulders and leaned down towards her so her knees nearly touched her ears. Her breathing became more laboured as his thrusts became fast and sharp, nudging her g-spot all the more.

"Ohh, I'm going to come," she gasped, her eyes widening and then shutting as wave after wave of ecstasy stole over her. She cried out, a long, high-pitched not, her pussy dripping with moisture as she climaxed, dribbling down between her buttocks. Surprisingly, Iorveth slowed down, allowing her to recuperate after such an intense orgasm. She watched him somewhat warily as he pulled out of her, a ghost of a smile playing around his mouth.

"Bend over for me." He said it softly, more as a request than a demand. As obligingly as ever, Lorella crouched down onto all fours, her legs trembling from the aftermath of her climax. She couldn't see what Iorveth was doing, even as she craned her head round and tried to see through the gloom. All of a sudden she felt his mouth eat her precious vagina as she bent over, licking the wetness off the dainty pink lips. Slowly, she felt his tongue slide up between ass cheeks, then feeling his tongue probe at the puckered skin. Startled, she let out a sharp gasp, unsure as to whether she liked this. Then all action stopped, and she felt the elf's huge cock enter her again. She was alarmed by his steadiness, as if not wanting to hurt her – admittedly, after their previous encounters, Lorella had always felt like she had been ripped into two afterwards.

Iorveth pulled the woman's arms, taking away her support and held them firmly behind her back. Only then did he increase tempo, light slapping noises sounding throughout the quietness of the room. He began to rub her clit in fast circles with his free hand, and thus she felt an orgasm stealing over her once more. Her soft cry seemed to be his undoing, as he slammed in and out of her repeatedly, his thrusts becoming more urgent.

"Make me come now," he whispered, a thin sheet of perspiration coating his toned and scarred body as he continued to fuck her at a fast pace. She didn't reply, mainly being unable to form coherent sentences as she felt the large cock invade her pussy over and over again.

With one last slam into her, Iorveth came, spilling his seed inside her with a long, guttural groan. He threw his head back as his cock gave several short bursts, then withdrew, feeling his shaft pulsate as he did so. He lay back on the bed, fully spent and panting, and watched Lorella as she got up from the bed, avoiding his gaze as she pulled on a nightshirt. Almost automatically, she passed Iorveth his clothes, which he took, though made no effort to move. Lorella lit a few candles which through the sensual curves of her body into more relief. She turned to face the handsome elf, an odd expression on her beautiful face.

"Aren't you leaving?" she asked, somewhat cautiously. She folded her arms into a defensive stance and leant against the chest of drawers against the wall.

Iorveth raised an eyebrow. "I will if you require me to."

"No, it's not that, it's just… don't you usually?" She became increasingly nervous. "Will you please tell me what's going on?" she added, almost begging. It was almost too pathetic to behold, but he graced her with an answer nevertheless.

"I thought I explained myself rather clearly," he said simply, lifting his arms and holding his hands behind his head. He fidgeted with the crimson bandana that covered a gruesome scar on his face, ensuring it was secured.

"You didn't."

He eyed her, amused. "I said you were an exception to the rules, young dh'oine. It must mean a lot for you to hear that, coming from a notorious slaughterer of humans. I am not here to kill you," he added, as if sensing her fears from earlier.

Lorella remained quiet, only fidgeted with her nightshirt, still as puzzled as before.

"You are sceptical."

"How can you tell?"

"It's written all over your face," he replied with a cocky sort of smile. He sighed, mildly impatient with her dim attitude as she proceeded to look blank. "Sit down."

She obliged and perched herself on the edge of the bed careful not to touch him. She couldn't help but notice his cock, even now. Although flaccid, it still proved to be impressive. Instead, her eyes drifted over his incredibly toned torso, drinking in the silhouetted of muscles and the skin peppered with battle scars. She jumped slightly as Iorveth sat up and placed his face close to hers.

"You've no reason to be afraid of me. Not anymore," he added nothing more than a whisper, his olive green eyes boring into her amber ones. "I care for you, my beautiful dh'oine. I resented this at first, as nothing would have repulsed me more than forming feelings for a human" – Lorella fidgeted uncomfortably at this – "but I cannot be afraid or disgusted by that anymore. I am still a man, a living being with emotions, contrary to popular belief. I want you as mine." He kissed the porcelain skin of her shoulder as she tried to register this.

"So I'm safe? I don't have to worry about you trying to murder me in my bed?" she asked, eyeing him doubtfully.

"You are safe now," he said quietly. "Though, of course, we cannot be seen together. You do realise that?"

She nodded, then a thought occurred to her suddenly. "What makes you think I feel the same way?"

Iorveth chuckled against her shoulder, a magically beautiful sound. "My young dh'oine, what makes you think I have not checked up on you and seen you rubbing that delightful pussy of yours and heard you moaning my name?"

She blanched and then a hot flush crept upon her cheeks, embarrassed and suddenly violated. She cleared her throat awkwardly before saying, "That's a fair point."

Their gaze met again, and her eyes wandered to the red bandana. Slender fingers reached up to touch it and the elf flinched away instinctively, glaring, his lip curled.

"Let me see," she whispered, her eyes sparkling as she surveyed his handsome elven features, completely unperturbed by this display of aggression. She knew it was a defence mechanism, a wall he brought up so as not to let people in or too close.

Begrudgingly, he lifted the material, his good eye avoiding her face, afraid of her reaction. Instead of retching or shying away, she moved closer to him, her soft fingers dancing over the deep purple scar from where his eye should be and down to his lip. He quivered slightly at her touch.

"Does it hurt?" she asked softly.

He shook his head, and felt her sweet breath against his face. As light as a feather, she kissed the base of the scar and up to his eye socket, planting kisses like a whisper here and there.

"You are still beautiful to me," she breathed in his pointed ear before kissing him full on the mouth.

He reciprocated hungrily, feeling a strange surge of affection for this woman. This human had undeniably stole his heart – the sooner he accepted that, the better. Right now, he couldn't imagine spending another night away from her. There was something about her that he couldn't quite place his finger on: she was beautiful, in an elven way, which may have contributed to this attraction. She laughed easily and had the sweetest, most intoxicating smell of any woman he had met, and he had taken plenty to his bed over the long span of his life. He closed his eyes as she stroked his cheek, his hand tangled in her hair, until she broke apart to breathe. She wore an odd look – was it guilt?

"There's a witcher in town," she said uneasily, sitting back comfortably on the bed, legs crossed.

"And?" he said shortly, then regretted his impatient manner. She merely narrowed her eyes at him in annoyance.

"I thought you might know something."

"Why the witcher is here is no concern of yours," he told her, gentler this time. He turned his body to face her and stroked the creamy skin of her thigh.

"You're working with him," she said at once, noting the change in his demeanour. True, she didn't have too much common sense – look where she had begun with Iorveth – but she could read body language.

The elf didn't deny this. "He needs help, and I have offered it to him in return for his trust and… services."

"But surely –"

"Enough," Iorveth said sharply, shooting her a glare. She returned this dirty looked and pulled her body out of his grasp – though not before lifting his hand and throwing it back at him. She flounced to the window with her back to him and stared out. The slight breeze ruffled her nightshirt, though she did not shiver.

"Margot asked me to service him," she said blandly, betraying no emotion. Though she had not intended on telling anyone this, least of all Iorveth, she still felt a trace of resentment towards him and his harsh tone.

"What?" he said loudly. Lorella didn't turn to face him but knew he had leapt up from the bed. "She asked you to do what?"

"Service Geralt," Lorella repeated, smelling the elf's scent as he moved into position next to her.

"Surely you didn't accept," he growled menacingly, his eyes stuck on her, waiting for an answer.

She shrugged, struggling to supress a smirk as Iorveth became more and more pent up. Only when he grabbed her shoulders and swung her around to face him did her humour vanish in a second.

"Tell me," he snarled, his face an inch away from hers. Lorella shook her head jerkily and he visibly relaxed, and she could tell he instantly regretted losing his temper.

"You are mine," he hissed, somewhat protectively, his fingers digging into her shoulders. "I thought I had made that abundantly clear. I do not risk my life and being seen to see you most nights for nothing, dh'oine."

"_Me minne_," she whispered, her eyes searching his, seeing the pain reflected in the green iris.

"_Me elaine blath_," he breathed back in Elder Tongue, smashing his mouth against hers.

They embraced passionately for a time, until Iorveth's cock became rock hard once again. She grasped it delicately with a soft hand, before leading him to bed, where they made love until sunrise.


	2. Chapter 2

_A / N - i'm getting quite into this, although I've noticed the Iorveth tag isn't too popular on here. those few who are reading please enjoy nevertheless! i have tried/ i am trying to incorporate actual quests and happenings from the game so it doesnt seem like this story is just a headcanon, but as my own character, Lorella, doesnt actually exist within the game, it's something i am trying to work with. thanks for reading, please review!_

**Chapter Two**

He hadn't meant to stay the night, it wasn't a situation he was comfortable with – and yet, when the elf rose the next morning, he felt no regret, only contentment. He was naked under the blankets of the bed and turned his head slightly to survey his sleeping lover. Lorella was turned away from him, the duvet only covering below her waist, showing her bare back. Warm sun rays poked between the buildings in the town square and illuminated her pale skin, swathing her in a golden glow. She looked ethereal, heavenly, somehow. Iorveth enjoyed this image of perfection for a time until she began to stir.

She turned and opened a bleary eye. "Good morning," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep.

"Good morning to you as well," mused the elf. Without realising what he was doing, he held out an arm and invited her over into his personal space. She rested her head upon his chest, smelling the somewhat comforting aroma of man, sex and sweat. His heart beat steadily, a soothing noise as her breathing kept in time with his. Iorveth was not one to 'cuddle' as it was a concept he was unfamiliar with. It was something people – or couples – did to show their love for one another. He rather thought that the reason why he had no experienced such close, gentle contact was because he had not held a care in his heart for anyone – until now.

They remained in a close position for some time, unspeaking, the elf's fingers toying with Lorella's hair whilst her hand drew circles on his chest. She traced his scars: some were thin and short, others broad and a shiny white from deep wounds.

"I think," said Iorveth after some time listening to the bustle outside in the square and docks, "that it would be rather difficult escaping this room unseen."

"So stay here where we can fuck all day," Lorella replied simply with a smirk.

"If only I were allowed such luxuries. I think that if the town caught wind of the scoia'tael leader having romantic relations with a human it would cause quite a stir, don't you?" he asked, though making no effort to dislodge her and dress. On the contrary, the idea of remaining in bed with this beautiful woman for the majority of the day was incredibly appealing.

"Everyone is shit scared of you," she pointed out, then added sarcastically, "It might just be because you're a ruthless killer."

"That's what people say about me is it?" he said with the faintest trace of cockiness.

Lorella pushed him playfully. "They say a lot worse, believe me."

"Ah, but you don't believe a word of it."

"I did to begin with," she admitted. "Though now I know different; you're actually soft under that tough I-hate-everyone-and-everything demeanour."

"I am not," he snapped, to which she laughed.

"Yes, you are, and there's no shame in that." She sat up and raised her arms to stretch, lifting her bare breasts as she did so. Iorveth watched how the curls of chocolate-coloured hair covered her dusty pink nipples and cascaded down her back. He noted the flawless skin, not marked with scars as he was. She stopped mid-yawn when she caught him looking.

"Enjoying the view?" she asked, raising an eyebrow.

"More than you know," he said with a rare, brief smile. His cock had grown hard after watching her, causing a more-than-obvious mound under the bed covers. He flexed his length so that it moved and watched as her eyes raked over him. She leaned over to him so that her nipples grazed his chest. Her breath tickled his pointed ear and he felt his shaft stiffen more – if that were even possible.

"You're a tease," she purred, cupping his face in her hand. Suddenly, she let go and leapt off the bed, leaving Iorveth bewildered and very much sexually deprived. He watched as she wrapped a robe around herself, hiding her perfect body from his eyes. She perched herself on the edge of the bed and fiddled with the blankets uneasily. "You know Margot will be expecting me this evening."

Iorveth shot her a sharp look. "So don't go."

"You don't know what she's like," Lorella groaned, carding her fingers through her long hair exasperatedly. Little did she know that Iorveth did indeed know the whore much better than his love thought. "She will come knocking for me and make a scene…"

The elf watched as Lorella's eyebrows knitted together with worry. Surely he could speak to Margot? She was a spy for the scoia'tael – perhaps he could trust her with this? No. His gut feeling that telling a popular blabber-mouth prostitute his inner most feelings for another human woman was out of the question. He almost snorted at the absurdity of it all. But he knew Margot, and she did not give up easily. He didn't have many options, although allowing Lorella to gallivant off with the witcher was almost too much to bear.

Lorella caught the look on Iorveth's face. "I won't go through with it, I'll just go and speak to her later."

"Good luck with that," replied the elf, though not unkindly. He flashed her a rare, half smile before sitting up in bed. "I have to leave, otherwise I will be quite tempted to remain here and fuck you all day." He reached out an arm and slid it under her robe where he tweaked one of her nipples. Her sharp gasp brought a more prominent smirk to his face.

"How will you get away unseen?" she asked him curiously. Flotsam's market was in full swing and the sun was high in the sky so it was probably early afternoon.

"I have my ways," Iorveth replied, raising an eyebrow at her. He dressed rather quickly and hoisted his bow and quiver of arrows on his back. Lorella watched him with rapt attention, taking in the way his leather trousers stretched gloriously across his backside.

"Until later," he whispered, kissing her softly on the forehead. In the blink of an eye, he slipped out the window and out of sight. Lorella watched him go, her forehead burning from where he had kissed her.

* * *

Lorella enjoyed her afternoon shift somewhat that day, cooking a mysterious meaty stew over the stove in the inn's kitchen. The memory of her encounter with Iorveth lingered in her mind, and often she caught herself smirking smugly when she thought about him naked. Dyson yelled at her less than usual, and allowed her to leave fifteen minutes early. Pleased by this, but with nothing in particular to do, she hung her apron up and turned to leave. However, she was accosted by a familiar woman as soon as she stepped out of the kitchen.

Margot. She was a fool to think that she would have been left alone, and realised that she should've gone to visit the woman sooner.

"There you are, you little minx," said the prostitute, kissing Lorella on both cheeks. Margot smelled of face powder and floral perfume. "I thought you had forgotten our arrangement… but by the Gods, you need cleaning up!" She let out a tinkling laugh and ignored Lorella's insistent stammers.

"I will be taking this one of your hands for the remainder of the evening," said Margot to Dyson, the latter voicing no complaints and replied with only a lustful, greedy leer.

"I – I don't think I should be leaving," said Lorella as she was marched to the brothel. "Dyson gets cranky when I'm away for too long –"

"Nonsense," insisted Margot, quashing the excuse flat. "I can assure you that this will be a lot more worthy of your time!"

Lorella visibly deflated as she was led into the brothel's private bathroom. It sparkled with white granite, a magnificent bathtub in the middle. Candles set around the surfaces illuminated the sparkling cleanliness of the bathroom, of which she was deeply surprised at.

"Come." Without preamble, Margot began untying the young woman's grubby work dress; it was a dull fern green stained with soup and goodness knows what else. Lorella resisted, but Margot was firm. Resigned to the knowledge of the events that were about to unfold, Lorella let her get to work. Suddenly, she had a thought. Though she had told Iorveth she would not go through with this, she could play along, and then escape when left alone with the witcher… Yes, she thought slyly, feeling marginally more cheerful. She would distract him somehow, then make a quick getaway out of one of the windows. That way, everyone was happy. Well, apart from Margot and Geralt of course, but who cared about them? Their displeasure wouldn't be half as bad as Iorveth's wrath he found out, and Lorella could make no mistake about that. The elf always seemed to know what was going on, and especially if he was working with Geralt, he _would_ know. She would rather not have her head, or anyone else's head, on a spike for the whole town to see.

Margot had run a hot bath, then turned to examine Lorella's naked body. The young woman had been too carried away with her own thoughts and escape plans, she entirely forgot to feel embarrassed. She covered her body with her arms, to which Margot pulled them away gently. Lorella felt it would make her life a lot easier if she remained compliant.

"Stay there, we need to groom you." She nodded towards to small tuft of pubic hair. Lorella blushed furiously, even more so as Margot set to work and stood rigidly as she felt the cool metal of a sharp blade move over her. The prostitute was surprisingly gentle, and had finished in a matter of minutes. Lorella looked down and felt pleasantly surprise when she saw her smooth skin.

"Bathe," Margot told her softly, "and try to hurry, dear, Geralt won't wait for you forever. And put those clothes on after," she added, nodding to a corset, skirt and suspenders.

"He will have to wait," Lorella grumbled as she lowered herself into the hot, soapy water. Steam whirled into the air around her and she relished the heat on her aching joints, wishing that there was such a magnificent bathroom at the inn. Instead, she usually had to make do with a tin tub. It served its purpose well but was nothing on this sort of luxury. Lorella washed herself thoroughly and remained in the water for as long as she dared and until her skin had taken on a prune-like quality. With a sigh, and knowing full well that Margot would constantly hound her, she lifted herself out of the bathtub and began to dry herself off. A knock sounded at the door, making her jump.

"Hurry!" rang Margot's voice. Her footsteps faded away and Lorella's heartbeat turned back to normal.

The clothes set out for her fit her surprisingly well. Despite feeling desperately exposed, she looked good, and fleetingly thought about what Iorveth would think if he could see her now. Rip them off, probably. To make herself more decent, she wrapped a silk robe around her body.

Lorella twisted her long, slightly damp, chestnut hair into an elegant bun, using whatever pins she could find scattered about the bathroom left from the other working girls. She had barely begun to make her way upstairs before Margot was on her again; like a rash that would not go away. Then again, she had probably had a fair few. Smiling, she allowed herself to be led upstairs to the room where she had met the witcher last time. He was sat in the same chair again, gazing pensively out of the window.

Margot cleared her throat and he looked round. "You remember Lorella."

"I do," the witcher replied simply, standing.

"Have fun," whispered Margot excitedly into Lorella's ear, then chuckled mischievously before vanishing, leaving them to it.

Lorella felt suddenly self-conscious and wrapped the silk material firmly around herself. She avoided the witcher's gaze as he advanced slowly, gulping when he halted before her. Forcing herself to look into those mysterious yellow eyes, she wondered of his intentions, expecting him to be harsh and forceful. On the contrary, he stroked her peachy cheek softly with calloused hands, and she knew that she couldn't go through with this.

"I can't –" she began, but Geralt hushed her.

"I won't hurt you," he whispered and she couldn't help but believe his promise.

"It's not that, I…" she trailed off as he moved her arms away from her torso, which she had been gripping protectively. Steadily, he pulled at the sash on the robe so that it fell from her shoulders in waves and landed silently into a pool at her dainty feet. He hissed slightly when he surveyed her magnificent body, running his eyes over her impressive cleavage, her narrow waist…

Lorella found herself stunned into silence as Geralt lowered his head towards hers, soft, rose-colour lips parted slightly.

* * *

She wasn't in her room.

Iorveth cursed under his breath as he returned to the inn and discover Lorella's bed to be empty. That meant only one thing, and woe betide anyone if it transpired to be what he thought.

* * *

Geralt kissed gently, and although Lorella did not resist, she didn't reciprocate either. Guilt burned up inside her as she thought of Iorveth and her promise to him. Only when the witcher stroked the soft skin of her inner thigh did she gasp and pull away.

"No, please, I can't do this," she stammered.

Geralt looked on, sympathetic. He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off right away by an angry hiss.

"I knew it."

Iorveth strolled out of the shadows, his face wearing an ugly look of fury. He didn't even look at Lorella. His eyes were for the witcher, and him alone.

"Get away from her, mutant."

"This a whorehouse, elf, I am entitled to the pleasures it offers," Geralt replied, barely batting an eyelid as the scoia'tael leader advanced towards him. "She is as good as anyone's."

Rage clawed up inside Iorveth at these words. "She is not just anyone's," he spat, "she is mine."

Blank shock registered on the witcher's face only for a split second. Silence fell upon the two men, but their animosity was almost stifling in the small room. Lorella had snatched the robe from the floor and wrapped it around herself, backing up against the wall as her heart pounded in her chest.

"I did not realise," Geralt said shortly after some time. He glanced back at Lorella, though didn't appear angry. He spoke his words kindly to her. "You should have said."

"I did try," she squeaked, though she never intended to give him the legitimate reason why she could not have sex with him. Her fear at Iorveth's reaction should she have told the witcher of their situation would have been a sight to behold.

"You will tell Margot I paid you a visit, and took her with me," said the elf in a dangerous tone, nodding towards the cowering human. "And tell Margot that I will be dropping in to see her again."

"Understood," replied Geralt with a nod, completely unperturbed at what had just occurred. "Apologies."

Iorveth returned the nod curtly before striding towards Lorella. Fear flicked over her face as he picked her up effortlessly – she was short for a human, and he tall for an elf. He flopped her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes before escaping back out towards the window. Lorella caught the witcher's gaze and gave him a sad wave before she was dragged outside into the darkness.

* * *

"You promised me," Iorveth snarled when the pair were in the safety of the inn once more. It had proven more difficult to transport the dh'oine without being seen, but he could not and did not desire for her to be left in the whorehouse any longer.

"I didn't have a choice," Lorella told him weakly as she watched the elf pace the room like a caged animal. She hurriedly lit some candles and proceeded to watch his movements. "Margot practically dragged me there, I was going to escape when I had the chance, I promise…"

"Save your promises and lies," the elf spat. "You dh'oine are all the same."

She reeled as if she had been slapped. Hot tears pricked the back of her eyes but refused to let them fall. She watched as regret passed over Iorveth's face. His expression softened, and he tried to take her in his arms. She pushed him away and crossed her arms adamantly, though he wouldn't give up. He wrapped his arms around her rigid body, nuzzling her hair. She smelled more glorious than he ever remembered.

"I hold a deep affection for you," he murmured in her ear. "I couldn't bear the thought of you with someone else; especially not the witcher with whom I have to collaborate with. Forgive me."

The last two words melted her heart and she visibly relaxed. Nodding against his chest, she pulled away from him and took of the robe, which she flung into a corner. Next, she began to tease at the corset strings, to which Iorveth stopped her. Their gaze met, and she saw the hunger in his face.

"Leave those on for a time," he told her softly, his voice laced with desire. "I wish for you to show them off for me, then take them off nice and slow."

"Okay," she agreed.

Iorveth took a seat on the bed and raked his eyes up and down her body, his erection pressing uncomfortably against the leather of his trousers. He watched her unlace the corset, her huge breasts springing free, her nipples already hard. A gasp hitched in his throat as she removed the rest of the sparse clothing, the stockings curling like snakes on the floor. The elf fixed his eyes on her shaven pussy and he moistened his lips, aching for her sex to grind on his face, his cock.

Suddenly, he grabbed Lorella by the buttocks, taking her completely by surprise. They toppled into the bed, her moistness leaving a small patch on his trousers. Rubbing her, he brought his mouth close to her hear.

"You fuck me, and only me, is that understood?" he whispered, bucking his hips to meet her.

"Yes sir," she breathed back, happy that he was no longer angry and things were back to normal.

For a time.


End file.
